


Support

by MintIceTea



Category: Ravenous (1999), The Long Midnight of Barney Thomson - Douglas Lindsay
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 03:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MintIceTea/pseuds/MintIceTea
Summary: “Are you going to kiss me, Barney?”Barney startled, flushing. “Don’t be an eejit.”“Pity,” Ives drawled.





	Support

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a line in the first book. “Are you going to kiss me, Barney?”/“Don’t be an eejit.”
> 
> Spoilers for the book series, but nothing explicit (especially since I haven't read it in a few years). You'll be able to get by without reading it. 
> 
> There is death & minor gore, but no more than appears in either movie.

Friends were not something that Barney had in excess. Fuck, the occasional obligate pub night with Bill to complain about the wife, the job, and maybe some pseudo-philosophical discussion was the closest he had had to a friend since primary.

And if that wasn’t sad Barney didn’t know what was.

So, it came as a surprise when Barney realized that his regular customer considered him one.

The man, Ives, had been a sporadic customer for months. Barney gathered from their short conversations that Ives made frequent trips about the country. What for, he never elaborated, but he claimed he was a student of the nature of man. They had shared quite a few conversations on the subject while Barney worked. Never more than a trim, occasionally something new with the sideburns, but Ives was quite fond of his look. And as talented as Barney was, he knew he couldn’t mess with perfection.

Whenever Ives was in town, Barney found himself being invited out to the pub. Agnes made some comments about how often he was out when she wasn’t glued to her soaps.

“I’d be worried if I didn’t know better,” she said, watching him put his coat on during the commercial. “What woman would have ya?”

Her laughter followed him out, leaving him hot and angry. He stewed in his anger, work rage resurfacing and fueling him until he walked in the pub and saw Ives waiting for him. Anger left him immediately, replaced with something warm at the sight of his face, leaving him feeling a bit lighter.

And more than a little confused.

\--

It only takes a pint or two before Barney found himself complaining about work again, the odd warm feeling fading into his approaching buzz. Ives listened sympathetically, leaning forward to hear him over the noise of all the other patrons. Barney hadn’t realized how far exactly they had leaned across the table in Barney’s wicked plotting until he glanced up to meet Ives’ eyes and found them focused on his lips. Ives noticed him watched and smirked.

“Are you going to kiss me, Barney?”

Barney startled, flushing, though the though hadn’t crossed his mind. “Don’t be an eejit.”

 “Pity,” Ives drawled, taking a sip from his drink. He sits back and almost seems disappointed.

Now among all the thoughts of murder in his mind, swirls the thought of kissing Ives.

Barney is a bit disturbed to find that he doesn’t mind it. He turned the subject back. “What do you know about poison?”

Ives made a face. Wrinkling his nose as if disgusted. “Clean up after poison is such trouble, better not.”

“You’ve a lot of experience with that then, Ives?”

Ives laughed, a low deep sound. “No, I’ve never poisoned anyone.”

Something about that statement stuck in his mind, even as Barney dropped the subject. He asked Ives about what he had done on the continent and let himself focus on that instead.

\--

That’s probably why, when Barney found himself standing above Wullie’s still body, Ives came to mind. Ives had answered his call within two rings and was standing beside him in the shop in under fifteen minutes. Barney was still on the verge of panicking, his breath short. Ives shot him a look.

“Barney.”

“Aye?” He squeaked, far higher than he meant to. Only focusing once Ives clamped his hands on his shoulders, forcing Barney to look at him.

“Go wash your hands. We’ll need gloves and rags to start with. Do you have bleach here?”  

“Urm, yeah.” Barney shook himself at Ives’ commanding tone. “Yeah, I’ll go – get them.”

When he returned a few moments later, Ives was still standing above the body, head cocked as he was thinking. He didn’t raise his eyes at Barney’s reentry, but he did speak, voice low. “We need to get the body out of here and clean up.”

Barney nodded, swallowing hard. Ives guided him through the clean up with firm commands, and before Barney knew it the shop looked normal again. His apron cleaned and drying, free of blood in the black, the floor cleared of blood. Even the scissors themselves were cleaned, dried, and returned to their station. Ives stood, looking about the room before nodding in approval. All that was left was to dispose of the body. Ives hadn’t disclosed how he planned to do that, and before Barney could ask he spoke.  

“Just to be sure, you didn’t try to poison him, did you?”

A near hysterical laugh nearly bubbled from him, fueled now by physical exhaustion as well as nerves. “Does that look like poison? I swear, it was an accident.”

“Doesn’t look like an accident. No one will believe you.” Ives stared at the body thoughtfully, now just a black lump wrapped in trash bags. The blood on the floor cleaned up. “Especially not now.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He turned to Ives, surprised that he had gotten so close. “Ives?”

Ives smiled, a sharp smirk that sent a shiver of fear down Barney’s spine. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?”

“You didn’t poison him. That makes clean up much easier.” Ives knelt by the body, making sure it was secure in it’s wrapping. “We can come back tomorrow night and get rid of the last traces of blood. The police won’t be called for another day or so.” He hefted the body onto his shoulder with ease. “Would you mind dropping me off?”  

Wullie was loaded into Barney’s car, and Ives directed Barney to a small rental flat in a dingy side of town. He unwillingly offered to help unload the cargo, but Ives declined. “All you have to do is stay quiet. Let them believe he disappeared. They won’t find him and as long as you say nothing you’ll be fine.” Despite Ives’ reassurances Barney calls him the next day, panicking after Wullie’s wife came round looking for him. He nearly begged Ives for direction, more so in need of the support than an explanation. After careful deliberation, Ives relented.

 “Not over the phone, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight and I’ll explain what I have planned?

\--

One meal does not a wendigo make. Ives couldn’t claim to be an expert (having eaten his original source of information), but he knew that there was more…intent involved. Having a friend serve you dinner wouldn’t turn Barney.

And besides. While he was quite fond of Barney, he hadn’t decided if Barney was more than just prey.  

Not yet anyway.

The news would break about Wullie’s disappearance soon enough. Barney’s reaction afterwards would decide how Ives would continue. If he turned against him, implicated him in this crime, Ives could dispose of the barber with ease despite his affection.

And well, if Barney chose to stay quiet, Ives would continue to support him. And Ives was pleased with this choice when Barney killed again. As much as he enjoyed the hunt, he wouldn’t turn down an easy meal provided by a friend.

\--

Year later - after encountering monks, a hitwoman, quite a few politicians, an encounter with God and Death themselves - Barney finds himself once again face to face with the doldrums of daily life. Something he never thought he’d see again. He had spent too long with death and the supernatural following him as if he were the pied piper. It was easy to find the drama of everyday life mind numbing.

He was still wondering if contentment was worth boredom. In the only barbershop in this little town, Barney was privy to all the goings-on whether he wanted to be or not. A bunch of men in denial that they needed hearing aids, they couldn’t keep their voices low if they wanted to. And if not talking about the old days, or celebrities, they could be expected to be yammering on about any old gossip they could get their geriatric hands on.

And Barney and Ives were defiantly the hot gossip.

Barney stayed on the island, mulling about in apathy, but Ives came and went. Drawn to bloodshed and carnage like catnip to a stray, it excited him, and called to him. Drew him away from Barney’s side for months at a time.

But he always came back. Wherever Barney was, Ives would find him. One night, long after the moon had risen, and many glasses of whisky had been drunk, Ives confided to Barney what originally drew him in.

Victim. Prey. Target. For the longest time that was the sense that Ives got from the barber. Not his target, no, but something else’s. It had peaked Ives’ interest, wanting to see what had marked the man.

“Yeah, well, we found that out,” Barney scoffed, rubbing at his eyes.

“Aye.”

Death itself. Barney was a valuable pawn – a perfect catalyst. The bloody barber was the ideal tipping points to end many lives. Ives smiled ruefully – it may explain why he was so attracted. Ives had danced with death for over a century – no surprise that the blood called to him. Barney belonged to death, but Ives did too. Death was satisfied as long as people died. Barney was so drenched in apathy that very little affected him now.

And Ives, well, at the end of the day Ives was fed and he asked for little more than that.   

**Author's Note:**

> They could totally be a couple, or they could totally be friends. It doesn't matter. Wherever Barney goes Ives will follow. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is considered complete, otherwise I'd be tempted to rewrite the whole damn series as I am prone to do.


End file.
